


Get Along With The Voices Inside Of My Head

by FordPrefect



Series: That's Not Fair [2]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Hearing Voices, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Imaginary Friends, Kinda, it's the middle of the night and i feel more alive than i have in years, not really - Freeform, spooky stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 20:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FordPrefect/pseuds/FordPrefect
Summary: Mrs. McLoughlin told her husband her worries about Dark, but he didn’t think it was a big deal. Until he finds Anthony talking to thin air.





	Get Along With The Voices Inside Of My Head

**Author's Note:**

> woot woot. why not post the second fic right now. i'm bored impatient and sleepless.

Mr. McLoughlin had known about his son’s imaginary friend for a few months. Apparently, his wife was worried that it wasn’t normal for a child to willingly give up actual friends for imaginary ones, but he had laughed it off, saying that he had had a few imaginary friends himself and that it was probably because of how shy Anthony was. Admittedly, he couldn’t actually remember ever having an imaginary friend, certainly not one he was at all attached to, but he figured that Anthony was a very introverted child with extroverted siblings who were all into sports and not video games or space. He wasn’t worried.

Thursday afternoon Mr. McLoughlin was reading a book in the den. It was currently April vacation, so Mrs. McLoughlin had taken the kids to the beach. Anthony had asked to stay home, and his father had agreed to stay with him. It was wonderfully relaxing. He was seated in his favorite armchair, directly in a beam of sunlight. He was warm and content, and the house was silent. Actually, now he thought about it, it’s a bit too silent. Frowning, he shifted so he could check the clock. It had been three hours since he’d heard any noise from Anthony. He should probably check on him.

Mr. McLoughlin walked slowly up the carpeted stairs, still in a sleepy daze. As he reached the landing he began to hear a voice chattering on. He couldn't make what the voice was saying but as he neared the end of the hall he recognized it as his son’s voice. Mr. McLoughlin slowly and quietly opened the door, and what he saw sent shivers down his spine. The blinds were open and the intense sunlight made the blue walls look paler than usual. The room was unnaturally clean and the bed perfectly made. Anthony was standing in the middle of the room, the sun framing his head like a halo and making his skin glow. He was talking animatedly. The small boy’s eyes were trained on the air in front of him, but there was no one there. Mr. Mcloughlin swallowed nervously and stepped into the room, clearing his throat to make his presence known. Anthony whipped around almost inhumanly fast and stares at ~~the in _truder_~~ his father. Mr. McLoughlin chuckled nervously. Something about that stare was unsettling though he couldn't put his finger on what.

“Heya sport, how’s it goin’? Are you talking to Dark?”

Anthony scoffs. “Obviously not dad. Dark hates light, and anyway, he had stuff to do.”

“O-oh. Who are you talking to then?”

“This is Wilford. He’s really funny!” And Mr. McLoughlin has never been more scared in his life but Anthony looks happier than he’s ever seen him so he indulges him.

“What does Wilford like?”

“He loves space! And candy! Especially the kind that makes you happy.”

Mr. McLoughlin didn’t know what that meant but he knew that it felt like there was something staring at him from the empty patch of air in front of him and that every cell in his body was screaming at him to run, run far away from this boy with toxic green eyes and a smile that was too wide and toothy and his oddly pitched voice and the empty patch of air that was staring at him. Mr. McLoughlin’s voice was strained as he said goodbye before running down the stairs and pouring himself the first of several stiff drinks. Maybe his wife had a point.

 

_

 

_

 

_

 

On the second floor, a small boy turns back to his new friend.

“So you know Dark?”

“Yes.”


End file.
